


Petit Hors-d'œuvre

by voreconnoisseur



Category: The Borrowers - All Media Types, Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Cannibalism, Eventual Fluff, F/M, Fear Play, Food Play, G/T, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Giant/Tiny, M/M, Macro/Micro, Mild Blood, Non-Consensual, Open ended, Other, Some straight up cannibalism in chapter 7 but it’s canon-typical, Vore, borrower au, it's actually, not crack, safe vore, unwilling vore, willing vore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-25
Updated: 2019-11-14
Packaged: 2020-01-31 12:51:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18591628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voreconnoisseur/pseuds/voreconnoisseur
Summary: Tsukiyama Shuu catches a borrower in his library and decides what to do with them.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in some sort of fervor late at night and I don't remember much of it. It might be OOC, since I've never actually written Shuu before, but frankly I don't care. There isn't enough Tokyo Ghoul G/T or vore out there, surprisingly.

You were not one to care for the affairs of ghouls or humans. As a borrower, you preferred to think about matters of your own size, such as knitting clothes from carpet threads or stopping mice from getting into your crumb stash. Despite this, you did have some understanding of what happened in the city that was your whole world, learned from secretly watching the news from your hideaway in the broken vent.

Humans were killed by ghouls. Ghouls were killed by investigators, or “doves,” as you sometimes overheard them being called. It was a cruel world, but crueller still for a borrower. Neither ghouls nor humans knew you existed, and if they did, you were sure they would kill you without a second thought. Or worse.

It was both the fault of humans and ghouls that you were in your present predicament. The home of the family you had been borrowing from had been torn apart when a ghoul had broken in and killed the occupants. Between the overpowering smell of blood and the dozens of investigators the crime scene was now crawling with, the place no longer felt like a good home to you. Besides, soon you would run out of food without anyone living there.

You packed a few of the necessities: a string-tied backpack containing a safety pin, a match, your favourite thimble, and a few crumbs for the road. Then, during the night, you made your way into the city.

Tokyo was still busy at night, but you were well hidden by a combination of darkness and small size. Unfortunately, it had been a long time since you explored the city, and, scary as it was, you hadn’t ventured outside much since you had settled in with that human family.

You felt awful about what had happened to them. After all, they were the closest thing you had to friends. You hadn’t met another borrower in years.

You darted between shadows, eventually hitching a ride on a taxi. You didn’t have a solid plan as to where you would end up, but you trusted yourself to be able to survive in whatever circumstances you found yourself in.

The house you found yourself at—no, it was more of a tower than a house—was the biggest thing you’d seen in a long time. And as a borrower, you’d seen a lot of big things. A thought struck you: why not take up residence here? You had always dreamed of living in a large home with so much in it to explore it could take months. It was dangerous; sure; but you loved the thrill of a new adventure.

You soon began to scope out the place. Being nighttime, the inside was quite dark and difficult to make out. However, you managed to make it to one room where evidently someone had forgotten to turn out a light. It was a breathtakingly grand library. Books were stacked on different levels high into the sky, but in such a way that you might climb them and perhaps even reach the top.

An idea came to you. Why not make a home among the books? Unfortunately, you couldn’t read very well, and most of these books were not even in any language you knew of. But that wouldn’t stop you from using books as building material.

You got to work building your new home. Pulling out a particularly heavy book, you let it drop to the ground by mistake. Oops. Ah well. It didn’t seem there was anyone around to hear. You were able to squeeze through the gap where the book once was, finding an large empty space behind the row of books. To appear neat, the books were, despite being of different dimensions, pulled out to the front of the shelf. This empty space would function nicely as your new living room. You pushed in a few of the books at certain intervals to even out your “walls” and create a few “doorways” into separate rooms. The shelves here were a little dusty, so you doubted anyone came here very often or would notice the minute changes you had made.

You settled down with a couple of crumbs (they were actually angel food cake, quite the delicacy) and pulled a few torn pages over yourself as a makeshift blanket. Tomorrow, the real work would begin, and you would search the house for supplies for your new home.

***A few weeks later...***

Your house was absolutely splendid. You had a bedroom with a soft bed made from a mitten, some knitting supplies (toothpicks and string) and even a grandfather pocket watch. You hadn’t seen any other borrowers in your expeditions, but that wasn’t out of the ordinary.

The tower you were in was huge, and to get to other floors you had to take a dangerous trip through an elevator shaft to avoid being seen. You had made it to a few other floors, and had seen a few of the beans living there. No scary brushes with death yet, though. And you hadn’t seen any cats.

You sipped some tea from your thimble and stared at one of the torn pages from earlier, poring over it and trying to read the symbols pictured. You were just considering trying to make a notebook from page scraps when, suddenly, you felt the wall behind you shift.

In an instant, you were left face to face with a shocked looking bean.

Its lips quivered a little before softly mouthing “ _Impossible..._ ”

You were too taken aback to even move before the giant man moved his hand toward you. Seeing this, you jumped, trying to scurry backward away, but the bean was too fast. You were struggling, being somewhat crushed by the strength of the hand around your entire body. He brought you closer to his face.

You noticed he had strange purple hair, and was wearing weird clothing even for a bean. His eyes matched his hair, and both were currently aimed at you. You felt so helpless...

“What are you...?” He asked softly. You didn’t answer, instead breathing faster. “Can you speak?”

“P-put me down!” you cried. He looked taken aback, and released his grip on you a little.

“My apologies, little one, I did not intend on frightening you.” He set you down on the reading table. You looked frantically for somewhere to run or hide, but the only way off was to jump, which you doubted you would survive. You were at the mercy of this bean for now. “I’m sorry if this seems rude, but may I ask: what are you?”

“...A borrower," you exhaled, barely able to say anything.

“I’ve never heard of a borrower.”

“Most beans haven’t.” The bean looked insulted.

“A 'bean?!' What’s that supposed to mean?!”

“You’re a bean. You know, a human bean.” At this, the man's eyes widened and he smirked the tiniest smirk.

“Ah! I see. And why are you called a borrower?”

“We borrow things.”

“We? Then there are more of you?” This bean asked a lot of questions. You were getting fed up with it.

“Hell if I know! Put me back already!”

“Back into my bookshelf? Is that where you live?” You didn’t answer, and instead sat down on the surface of the table, pulling at your hair. You should never have stayed somewhere out in the open like that. Now this guy would never leave you alone.

He knelt down so he could see you sitting on the table at his eye height. Usually, when you saw beans up this close (only ever while they were sleeping!) you could see all of the imperfections in their skin. This man seemingly had none. How strange.

“Yeah. Now leave me alone.” As if that would work.

“ _Mais mon petit_ , we’ve only just met! I have so many questions!”

You sighed. You didn’t believe in talking to beans, but this one seemed to not want to hurt you. It might be best to play along until he lost interest.

“Well, get on with them then. I had plans today,” you lied.

***

He brought you some tea and a biscuit, which he broke into more reasonably sized pieces for someone of your stature. He dug through the pocket of his sweater vest and pulled out a thimble, and carefully poured you a cup of tea.

This thimble had a little porcelain picture of a flower on it. You were a little envious. Your special thimble couldn’t compare.

“I’ve washed it out for you, of course. Just in case you worried.”

“I’ve never really worried about that sort of thing. I don’t even know if I can get human diseases,” you replied.

“How peculiar.”

He took a seat at a chair next to you, and provided you with a little bean bag and a book to function as your own chair and table. His seat was a bit high for his height, so his proportions were suddenly hitting you once again.

“What is your name?” You asked, trying to be brave.

“My name is Tsukiyama Shuu. It is an honour to meet you.”

“My name is (y/n), and that’s laying it on a little thick.”

“ _Désolé, mon petit_.”

“And I don’t speak whatever language that is.”

He pouted a bit, but regained his composure.

“Sorry, it is a little quirk of mine. Pay no attention to it.”

You chatted for a while, and realized that despite your differences, you did have a few things in common. Tsukiyama had apparently also been very lonely as of late, and had taken up people watching to fill the void. Though you couldn’t read, you still had an interest, and he spent a lot of time in the library. He even shared an interest in making a variety of different clothing.

As you chatted, you began to feel drowsy. No, not just drowsy. Suddenly more exhausted than you had ever felt before in your life.

You weren’t sure what was going on, but you felt seconds away from passing out. As your upper body started to give way, you mumbled:

“I’m... just gonna take... nap...”

“No worries,” Tsukiyama cooed with a grin. “I’ll take good care of you while you sleep.”

***

You awoke, naked, in the dark. You could feel the cold metal surface beneath you on your bare skin. You stood up, still drowsy, unable to completely remember what happened. There had been a bean and-

Oh no.

You’d been tricked.

You desperately felt your way toward the edge of the tiny room you were in, trying to find a way out. No matter which direction you picked, you were surrounded by a cool metal wall. Parts of the ground had some sort of sticky substance on them. As you stumbled in the darkness, you almost tripped over something. You touched it, noticing it was squishy and damp.

A realization was starting to dawn on you.

Suddenly, the ground tilted slightly and shook. Whatever container you were in had probably been moved. The careful movements continued for what felt like forever until there was a brief jolt and your prison was still again.

The roof was lifted away from you, exposing you to the horror of your surroundings.

You were on a dinner table in a candlelit room, staring at the wicked grinning face of the bean you had met earlier. Specifically on a platter, served with a side of three slices of presumably human flesh, and garnished with blood.

The bean you had trusted had turned out to be a ghoul.

God, you were unlucky.

You tried to scramble away, but Tsukiyama, who was already holding a knife and fork, quickly pinned you down by the leg.

“It seems like the dose I gave you was not quite enough to keep you unconscious. What a shame. I’m not that cruel, you know. I had planned for you to not bear witness to this.”

“Let me go!” you screamed, trying to wiggle out from under the fork. “I thought you were my friend!”

“You’d be surprised how often I hear that.” He held the fork firmer against you, and with his other hand took a second, longer fork, and picked up one of the slices of meat. He dipped it into some of the blood on the plate, and slid it into his mouth, taking time to chew and swallow, but not releasing the pressure on you for a second. As he did so, his eyes changed into the telltale black and red of a ghoul’s kakugan.

“I’m barely a mouthful to you, why even bother?” you cried, grasping at straws (or anything else on the table for that matter).

“Because I may never get a chance like this again,” he replied, and took the second slice of flesh. You watched, terrified, unable to take your eyes away. Seeing the bulge disappear down his throat and into his chest made you feel sick. After finishing it, he went on, increasingly excited.

“You are _extraordinaire._ I have never met a creature like you before, and I may never again. As a ghoul who prides himself on having one of the most comprehensive palates, I simply must try _borrower_ while I can.” He took the last slice and finished it off quickly, now looking straight at you hungrily. “And now that I have finished my appetizer, it’s time for the _entrée_.”

The reality of the situation was finally starting to hit you, and you struggled desperately against the metal pushing against you from both sides.

You were going to be eaten alive.

You had always considered this to be a possibility, being essentially bite sized for most creatures, but never by a bean. You had expected if anything were to eat you it would be a cat or a dog or a wild animal of some sort. But this–finding yourself on the plate of the first person you had talked to in years–was a nightmare you had never dreamed of.

Tsukiyama took a knife from the table and gently slid it against the skin of your left thigh, making a shallow cut. Blood spilled onto you, dripping on the plate and mixing with the blood already there. You gasped in pain. You were sure this wasn’t enough to kill you, but bloody hell did it hurt. If he was just going to eat you, why torture you on top of it? He put down the knife and fork and picked you up with his hand. He brought you close to his face and looked you over one last time, his kakugan burning into your mind.

“This is going to be a little more personal than I had anticipated, but as a once in a lifetime chance... I may as well enjoy every bit I can get. _Au revoir, mon petit._ ” With that, he opened his mouth wide, placing you inside. You screamed, but he snapped his jaw shut. Any noise you could make would be quiet and muffled. As if there were anyone around to help you anyway.

His tongue explored your body, tasting every inch of you as you struggled. Running his tongue against your freshly cut leg, he began to moan loudly, and the sounds practically echoed through you. You grasped for something; anything; but everything was covered in slime and you didn’t want to risk putting your hands between those teeth.

“Mmmmmm- _hmmmmm_!” The moans continued, until he was practically screaming with his mouth closed, drowning out any pathetic attempts you made to call for help.

Would it hurt, you wondered? Being gnashed into a pulp? What a stupid thought. Of course it would. Maybe if you stuck your head between those teeth it would at least be over quickly–

A sudden movement of the tongue below cut off your thought as you were thrown further into the back of his mouth. The flesh around you lurched, and he made a startled sound. You wondered for a second if he was choking on you. Wouldn’t that be amusing?

Instead, with a few forced gulps, you felt yourself moving deeper, feet first, into his throat. He was trying to swallow you whole.

This was so much worse than being gnashed.

The flesh around you tightened and released, squelching every time. Tsukiyama’s throat muscles pulled you deeper and deeper into him with every swallow. It seemed you were a little too big for him to handle without some effort, because he started to thump his chest with his fist, trying to force you down. With every thud, you dropped deeper into his gullet. You attempted to reach above you, back toward the light, but with the walls practically crushing you, you could barely move.

You were pretty sure you had passed his collar bone now, since the thumping had stopped and your descent became smoother. You thrashed about, trying to get yourself stuck again-anything to delay the inevitable-but your struggles seemed to only be forcing you down quicker. With a wail, you went limp, resigning yourself to your fate and letting the muscles squeeze your body slowly further down. Soon you felt your legs reaching an open space below you.

His stomach.

With a few quick undulations of his gullet, you dropped into the cavern below, in complete darkness. You could hear every noise in Tsukiyama’s body. His heartbeat, his breathing... the gurgling of his gut as it welcomed its new guest. His breathing seemed a lot heavier than before; maybe he actually had been choking.

“Aahhhhh~” his moaning voice boomed around you. “I didn’t mean to take it so fast... this is... strange...”

You still had a little fight left in you. You tried to stand, but slipped on something in the dark. Instead, you kneeled, punching the rippled walls around you with as much force as you could muster.

“I’m still alive, and I’m gonna kick your ass! Let me out!”

You felt something press up against you from the outside-a hand, maybe. For a second you felt the smallest glimmer of hope that maybe he felt some sort of regret for what he’d done to you.

But that was not the case, because he started talking again.

“This feeling... devouring an entire life in one bite... it is... exhilarating!” You could feel him practically shaking with pleasure around you. That’s right. This wasn’t about survival, even though ghouls killed to live. You were simply an object for his perverted whim. “I can feel every movement within me! I’ve been blessed with a meal of the very essence of life; a struggle to survive even against the inevitable~!”

He wasn’t even responding to you. He was still talking to himself. Egotistical prick. You continued to punch, kick, and even try to scratch your way out but every attempt was met with a sharp moan of pleasure. He was even enjoying your struggles.

You cried an awful, ugly cry, as your punches slowed to a crawl. You had spent all of your energy fighting, and to no avail. You sobbed, curling into the smallest ball you could.

“I don’t wanna die... I don’t wanna die...”

You sat still in the dank darkness. You felt pieces of chewed up flesh around you, probably starting to digest. That would be you soon. Nothing but chewed up meat, a stew of blood and tiny bones. And nobody would ever know.

Your heart sank deeper than it ever had in your life. The fleshy sack you were trapped in was starting to fill with digestive juices, tingling against your skin. You probably didn’t have long now. You imagined the skin melting off your body, and then the muscle melting off your bones, and then even your bones melting away too. Soon, nothing would be left but fluid pumping through the ghoul’s veins. You cried very softly, hoping he wouldn’t be able to hear or feel you. At least maybe you could stop giving him that satisfaction.

You were doomed now, and even your chance at dying quickly and painlessly was gone. You couldn’t stop imagining how much this was going to HURT. Everything around you reeked of blood and meat and blood and meat and blood-

“Oh my. It seems they’ve finally given up. I suppose with that I’ll retire for the night.”

The flesh around you lurched as he began to move, and you tried not to give any indication of still being alive. Hearing his pleasure felt more disgusting than any physical sensation.

Eventually, you were flopped to your side as he laid down. Soon he began to breathe deeply. Asleep. Now you could die in relative peace.

Might as well accept it: you WERE going to die.

The tingling had spread across your whole body now. Perhaps digestion had already started, and the pain was being numbed somehow. You felt around your body, trying to find signs of damage, but you couldn’t feel much of anything through the massive amount of viscous fluids covering you. For all you knew, you had patches of skin already melted off.

You wondered next what would happen after you died. It was something you thought about from time to time, being a little superstitious. Would your ghost be trapped in his gut forever? Would your soul become a part of his?

That last thought was a little comforting. Being able to live on in some way as something bigger and more powerful than you had ever been-disgusting as he was, it might be interesting to finally see the world from the eyes of a bean.

Minutes passed, and you strangely still felt nothing, though the chunks of meat around you were starting to turn into sludge, and you assumed the same was happening to you. You laid your body against the stomach wall, exhausted. The large ripples of the surface felt almost like layers of soft, squishy pillows. If you fell asleep now, you might just pass away quietly while you were unconscious. If that was how you were going to die, you supposed, aside from the humiliation of being nothing but food, it wouldn’t be too bad. Painlessly, somewhere soft and warm. Probably better than being stepped on or gnashed. Terrified as you had been, your exhaustion soon took over and you couldn’t keep your eyes open for long before you passed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stop reading here if you want this to be fatal. Or keep going if you’re whoring for another voring.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Somehow, you are still alive after an encounter with an infamous ghoul.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve split up the original and added more to create chapters. Enjoy.

The next morning, Tsukiyama began to stir. He sat up straight, waking you up with a jerk.

You took a moment to take in your surroundings. You were still surrounded by walls of organic pulsating material.

Ah. That's right.

It felt like it had been hours since you had been swallowed. Why were you still alive? All of the slurry that had previously surrounded you had vanished, but you remained intact. Were you somehow indigestible? With a flash of sudden hope, you began to struggle and scream again.

“Hey! You gross motherfucker! I’m still alive! Let me out of here!” You felt him gasp and grab at his stomach.

“Mon petit? How are you still alive? You shouldn’t even exist anymore!”

“Let me out and maybe I’ll tell you, bitch!” you bluffed.

“Of-of course. Give me a moment, please.”

Tsukiyama shifted again, knocking you on your side. After a few moments, he began to cough. Several violent jerking motions later and one unpleasant trip back up his throat later, you found yourself outside the bean sitting in a puddle of gastric juices in a sink.

You refused to look the bean in the eye. He turned the tap on for you and you washed yourself off. The water was freezing compared to how warm you had just been, but you were desperate to try and get rid of this unclean feeling. Tsukiyama turned off the water eventually and you were left there, naked and shivering.

“Do you want a towel?” he asked dully.

“Yes.”

The bean left for a moment before passing you a hand towel and your clothes. Perhaps he had planned to keep these as proof of your existence. You dried yourself off and slid them on, seething silently.

He suddenly picked you up and you squirmed frantically at his touch.

“There’s no need for that. I’m only bringing you out of this dismal bathroom.”

You kicked him once more out of spite, but he ignored you. He brought you back into his bedroom (which, incidentally, was HUGE, even for your standards) and placed you down on an end table, sitting in an arm chair next to you. Surprisingly, he also seemed to be having trouble looking into your eyes.

“So... how is it, exactly, that you’re not dead? That should have killed any living organism.”

You panicked a little. You had bluffed your way out; would he eat you again if you didn’t answer? If he did, maybe given enough time, you WOULD digest. You had to come up with something, quick.

“Ghouls can only eat humans, right?” you asked rhetorically.

“That’s right. Though it is possible for us to eat other ghouls, most avoid it for the unpleasant flavour and... less than savoury side effects.”

“Then what happens if you eat, say, beef or something?”

“Aside from the revolting taste, it makes us horribly sick.”

“So then... you can’t digest that sort of flesh?” Here you were, grasping at straws again. Anything that might get you out of here. God, you never should have talked to a bean.

“I suppose that might be true. I’ve never bothered to test the theory myself. Whenever I am forced to eat human food to keep up appearances, I am always sure to... purge it, before any negative effects can occur.”

...Like he had just “purged” you. Gross.

“Yeah... So, maybe my flesh is more like animal flesh than it is like human or ghoul flesh.” That probably made sense.

“I see. There is one problem with that theory, though.” Tsukiyama paused. “You didn’t taste awful like animal meats. In fact, I have to say you were rather _exquis_.”

Hearing this, you froze in place and began to breathe heavily.

“No, fuck you, no, no–“

“Relax. I’m not going to do anything. _Désolé_ if I come across that way. It isn’t as if I’ve ever had to talk to someone I’ve already eaten before.” 

You actually chuckled a little at how bizarre of a thing to hear that was. But enough of that. You needed to sort things out right now. 

“I answered your question. Are you gonna let me go now or what?”

“Let you go?” Ohh, that was not a good response. You tried to keep calm as you continued. 

“Yeah. Frankly, I’ve had enough of you. I’ve been much, MUCH closer to a bean than any self-respecting borrower should. So I’d really like to just leave and pretend this never happened.”

“Not so fast. I’d like to have you around a little while longer. I was thinking of keeping you like a pet.”

“WHAT?!” You may have been dinner not more than a day ago, but damn if you didn’t have some shred of dignity left. “I’m not a pet, I’m not food, and I’m not your friend! Let me go!”

“But you’re ‘more like an animal than a human or ghoul.’ You said that yourself.” There was obviously no way to argue with him. He could capture you against your will or just outright kill you.

“Ugh, fine, whatever. If you’re gonna keep me here, could you at least bandage my leg?”

“Of course, _mon petit._ ”

As long as you were alive, you’d have a chance to escape another day. And at least if he was keeping you as some sort of pet, you wouldn’t wind up in his stomach again.

Or so you thought, anyway...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Expect more, maybe.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shuu surprises you with something that turns out to actually not be terrible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies if this is a boring chapter. I just wanted to write about miniatures, mostly.

When Tsukiyama Shuu committed to a new hobby, he really committed. He went out the very same day and purchased a variety of different things from hobby shops throughout the city, all to work on the most beautiful surprise he could muster up. You, of course, were not allowed to escape throughout this process, and were detained in an old decorative birdcage in a walk-in closet.

Being a non-bird, this was a depressing predicament. Even if you were a bird, you supposed, you’d rather not be trapped. But as it stood, you couldn’t even reach the swing, let alone the cage door. 

You sat alone, waiting for your captor to return. He had left you some water and a little bit of stale cake, which you refused to touch. You whistled softly to yourself as you waited, imagining yourself as a little canary, able to fly to far away places...

Even canaries had to fear hawks.

You didn’t see him again until the evening, at which point he threw open the door, shouting: 

“ _Mon oiseau!_ I’ve finished it!”

“Finished what?” you asked, startled.

“You need to see for yourself.”

He picked up the cage you were in, not bothering to take you out, and carefully carried it out of the closet. You noticed immediately the end table you had been placed on previously had a new addition to it.

On the table was a beautiful modern dollhouse exactly to your scale. Although lacking in privacy (being a doll house after all), there was a bedroom, bathroom, living room, kitchen, and even an “outdoor” area.

As much as you hated this man, you had to admit this was much more impressive than your bookshelf home. 

“What do you think?” he asked.

“Why are you doing this?” You answered him with a question.

“I can hardly keep you in that birdcage.”

“No, I mean why bother keeping me as a pet. You’re going through all this effort when yesterday you were going to kill me like I was nothing.”

“Fair point. Hmm.” He paused for a moment to come up with an answer. “Why do you think people keep fish?” 

“How should I know why you beans do any of the dumb stuff you do?!”

“It’s very expensive, but people do it anyway. It’s because they want to keep a piece of beauty in their own home; to watch it and learn more about it for as long as they want. You can go diving all you want, but you may never see the same fish twice. In other words, I didn’t want to let you go and never see something as _incroyable_ again.”

You remained silent. The house was beautiful. You were being provided for and wouldn’t have to risk your life searching for supplies anymore. Tsukiyama was an interesting guy, and nice enough when he wasn’t trying to eat you. Presumably that wasn’t going to happen again, so why did you still feel awful about living here? 

The whole pet thing was still kind of throwing you off, to be honest.

Uncomfortable as you felt, there was nothing wrong with at least taking a look around the place.

“Can I see it up close?”

“Of course.” He unlocked the cage and carefully lifted you down onto the front porch of the little house. It was surrounded by a rock garden, complete with a bonsai tree with a swing set hanging off of it. On the other side of the house was a waterfall leading into a pool of water. You took your time to admire it before entering the house. There wasn’t a whole lot of privacy, being a dollhouse, but because there were glass windows rather than empty space, it looked more like a modern building than an open prison cell. 

You stepped inside, into the living room, gazing around you at the furniture. It was all perfectly to your scale. There was a lovely leather armchair, a sofa, and a smartphone attached to the wall like a flatscreen TV. On the coffee table was a stylus to control it with. There was even an end table with a potted plant on it. You investigated it closer—it was real! 

You moved over into the kitchen adjacent to the living room. As you did so, Tsukiyama spoke up again, trying to contain his excitement.

“When you get a chance, you should look at the stove and fridge.”

You peered around you. Your dining table had 2 chairs, though you didn’t expect to ever have a guest. Aside from that, there was a model kitchen complete with cooking utensils. You picked up a pot and banged on it: metal.

You opened the fridge only to have a cool rush of air burst out. Despite being small enough to only fit one can, it was functional!

Excited, you pulled open the stove. Inside was a tea candle, and a rack above it. This, you supposed, would heat up the top of the stove. Incredible! 

“There are matches in the cupboard, in case you were wondering.”

You moved on to the upstairs. You were in the bedroom now, which was complete with a bed and wardrobe. The lights in all the rooms were functioning too, though you had yet to see the light switch. You threw yourself onto the bed. It was very comfy, and you forced yourself to get up before passing out in it. This was certainly more appealing than sleeping inside a stomach again. Attached to the bedroom was a bathroom with a sink, a tub, and a toilet.

“I couldn’t modify it to have running water, so you’ll have to boil the water for your bath yourself, but everything will drain out of the house.”

You’d never had a proper bath before. The last time you had cleaned yourself (before today, anyway) was a sink adventure that ended with you twisting your ankle.

The bedroom also had a little patio, which faced Tsukiyama’s chair. He had sat down in it while you were exploring, and was watching you intently. You sat down in your patio chair, facing him. 

“So, do you like it? Is it suitable for you?”

You burst out laughing.

“Suitable?! I’ve been living in vents and underneath floorboards my whole life! This place is practically a palace!”

“That’s good to hear. It didn’t cost very much, so I was worried you’d think it was cheap.” You continued laughing. This guy really didn’t get it. “What? Why are you laughing?”

“Forget it. Look, I’ll stay with you. But out of my own will, ok? Don’t call me a pet. Call me a _tenant_ , or I’ll bite you the next time you touch me, like a pet hamster would. And don’t EVER put me in your mouth again.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he said with a hint of a smirk on his face.

You suspected he would, in fact, dream of it and more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Expect more vore content soon.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tsukiyama takes you for a night out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot happens in this chapter. I tried to make some parts relaxing, but there is vore in this one.

You had been living in your new “apartment” for a few days now. It was surprisingly comfortable, and you were really starting to get settled in. You’d made a few meals on your new stove, and even gone for a swim in the pond. Tsukiyama hadn’t been around much for the past few days, which was the opposite of an issue for you. He had mentioned going out to look for “ingredients,” whatever that meant. Probably nothing pleasant.

One evening he came home and made you a thimble of coffee, sitting beside your home in his usual spot, his legs crossed. You were cautious at first, remembering what had happened last time he’d served you a drink, but this one he poured right in front of you and poured himself some of the same, so you were pretty sure it wasn’t drugged.

You sat on your porch in your chair and sipped at your thimble. This time, it was YOUR thimble. You had mugs in your kitchen you could use, but you preferred to drink from this. It had been your favorite for a long time, and you kept it as a reminder of how your life was before you lost your last home. 

You had lived there alone in that vent for a few years. You didn’t have much there, but you’d been proud of what you did have and how far you’d made it on your own. Things had changed so quickly. 

“Tsukiyama-san?”

“Yes, _mon petit?_ ”

“This place is great and everything, but...” You trailed off. You didn’t know how to say this, and you were a little scared to offend him. It was true that he seemed to like you, and that he hadn’t done anything to hurt you since that night, and yet... You were still really, REALLY scared of him. 

One doesn’t just get over being forced into a situation where you’re certain you’re going to die horribly as another’s meal, after all. 

“But you’re bored, aren’t you?” He said this more like a statement than a question. He’d pretty much read your mind.

“Um, well, it’s not THAT exactly—I’m just not used to not having anywhere to go or anything to work on, or anything to, y’know, borrow.”

“Borrowing must be pretty ingrained in your nature, then. I think I can understand, as a ghoul. There are things I doubt I could live without being able to do.” Tsukiyama was probably being intentionally vague about these “things.” You didn’t have to guess what he was referring to. “It’s the same for all living creatures.” 

He sat with his hands clasped underneath his chin, silently deep in thought for a few moments. His eyes widened slightly and he suddenly spoke. 

“I have a live performance tonight. I’ll be playing a few pieces at one of the bars in the 5th ward. Would you like to come with me?”

“What?! Won’t there be like, a LOT of beans there? I can’t just go into a public building like that! People will see me!” Truthfully, you really did want to go. You’d been itching to get out of your little house, and this would be a once in a lifetime chance for someone like you. But you didn’t see how it would be feasible.

“I’ll make it work. I’ve got a blazer with a fairly deep chest pocket. You can hide in there, and I’ll wear a flower over it to draw attention away from you. I won’t lie; it’s probably still a little risky for you. I won’t make you—“

“I’ll go.” Your heart pounded in your chest, but you still managed to spit out the words. 

“ _Merveilleux!_ We’ll leave around 7:00. Make sure you’re ready. Is there anything you need right now?”

“Not really. I think I can handle preparing on my own.” You had never been to a fancy event like this before, so you weren’t entirely sure _how_ you’d prepare, but you definitely wanted to have a bath first. You didn’t tell him that, of course. You’d rather be didn’t see you naked again anytime soon.

“ _Très bien._ ” Tsukiyama drained the last of his coffee from his own mug and stood up. “I’ll meet you here around 6:30.”

“Alrighty. I’ll be ready.”

You let yourself relax a little as he left the room. What had you just gotten yourself into? Well, too late to back out now. You picked up your thimble and stepped back inside, sliding the door shut behind you. 

You took your largest pot out from your kitchen cupboard and took it out to the waterfall, letting the running water slowly fill it up. As you brought it back into your kitchen, you looked at your surroundings. It was strange having furniture your size. Was this how it felt to be a bean? You were briefly entertained by the thought of even _smaller_ borrowers living in _your_ walls. Borrower-borrowers? This was all very silly, you remembered, as you pulled an oversized match from your matchbox. You’d never know what it felt like to be big. With some effort, you managed to light the match, and lit the candle inside your stove before plunging it in a nearby bucket of water you kept for this sole purpose. Playing with fire was dangerous for a borrower. 

Once the pot started to bubble, you took it, with some effort, upstairs to your bathtub and poured it in. There was something therapeutic about filling your own bath. You felt like you were in control again, and doing something productive. You certainly wouldn’t ask Tsukiyama to get hot water for you. 

A few potfuls of water later, your tub was full. You waited a few minutes for it to cool down a little as you undressed, and then finally stepped in. You sighed as you let the warm water lap over your skin. Definitely worth the wait.

You grabbed your soap sliver from the shelf above you and began to clean yourself. It was lavender scented—so nice. You let your head sink into the water and ran your fingers through your hair, working some soap into it. It felt so good to be clean. You tried not to let the lavender smell relax you to the point where you’d fall asleep. 

When you were ready, you stood up from your bath, unplugged the drain, and dried yourself off. You put on a new set of clothes—you had found your wardrobe had a couple sets in it when you’d moved in—and went back downstairs to your living room. You figured you’d mess with the phone-TV until Tsukiyama was ready to take you out. 

After a short period of YouTube surfing, Tsukiyama threw open his bedroom door. He tended to do this a lot, actually. 

“ _Mon petit_ , are you ready? Our chauffeur is waiting.” He approached your apartment, already wearing one of his flashier outfits. It was a black and red dinner jacket and tie over a black dress shirt and dress pants. “Actually, I suppose I’ll be your chauffeur tonight,” he added with a laugh.

“I’m ready. It’d be kind of silly of me to dress up, though. It’s not like anyone’s gonna see me, ideally.” 

“I’ll see you.”

“And?” Tsukiyama pursed his lips for a moment but ignored your comment.

“Here, I’ll put you in my pocket. There should be plenty of room.”

You hesitated for a moment, but eventually stepped out your front door. You really, _really_ didn’t like being touched, but you were desperate to get out of the place. And you kept having to remind yourself that he had no reason to lie to you. If he wanted you dead, you’d surely be dead already.

To your surprise, Tsukiyama didn’t actually grab you this time. Instead, he laid his hand out flat in front of you wand waited for you to climb on. This was... a lot less terrifying, actually. 

You sat down on his hand, not wanting to lose your balance and fall off, as he carefully raised you up to his chest. His hand was soft, his flesh acting as a cushion for your ascent. He was warm, too—for some reason, you’d had it in your mind for the longest time that ghouls would be cold, like some sort of undead monster. You were very wrong.

He let you climb into the pocket of his jacket, which was just as soft but in a different way. This felt like silk, surrounding you and holding you close enough that you wouldn’t fall out. You stood up, holding onto the edge of the pocket, which did indeed have a rose pinned over it. From a certain angle, you could see everything with most of your face covered. 

“Everything alright in there?” You were able to hear his voice loud and clear, being so close. 

“This must be a pretty expensive jacket.” 

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes.’”

You disappeared into the pocket, peeking out every so often to look at what was going on around you. You were brought to a car and driven a good distance in the heavy city traffic (in awkward silence—you couldn’t say anything with the driver there). Eventually the two of you made it to the 5th ward. Tsukiyama stepped out of the car, thanked the driver, lightly touched your pocket to make sure you were still there, and continued into the building. 

This wasn’t any old bar. You’d seen a few back before you’d moved into your vent, as well as on your way to the Tsukiyama estate. This was evidently a bar for upper class beans. Most were wearing stylish but formal clothing, but none were quite as flashy as Tsukiyama, of course.

You hid as he greeted the bar owners and waited for him to sit down before peeking out again. You’d never seen a piano up close before. You were told they were very dangerous, full of sharp wires that could cut you in half. And little hammers, too. All the same, if you ever found a broken piano with no wires, it would make for a beautiful house. 

This one was stunningly glossy, though it looked a little old. It was probably very well maintained. (There went your hopes.) It had a few pieces of music left on them, which Tsukiyama flipped closed and put to the side. He hadn’t brought any music with him. 

You watched as he softly played a few notes, then a few chords, testing the waters. His fingers, you noticed, were a little on the long side, and very toned, presumably from years of piano practice. You hadn’t asked him how long he’d been playing. Once you were back home, maybe you would. 

“Nocturnes,” he said, quietly, to nobody in particular. 

The warm-up paused for a moment, then morphed into music as Tsukiyama’s nimble fingers danced over the piano. The first piece he played was You watched in awe from your place in his pocket as he played chord after chord. It was a lovely piece to start with. It blended in nicely with the bar’s atmosphere. As the song faded out, he whispered again:

“Alla Turca.”

This song was much faster and light hearted. It was a famous piece, so you’d heard it a few times before.The way Tsukiyama was able to move so quickly and precisely was almost hypnotic. 

Next, he played Clair de Lune. Another popular one. Something about this one was sad, yet beautiful. This time his hands moved more hesitantly, less mechanically. You could tell he was putting a lot of feeling into this one.

As the night went on, you began to get more and more drowsy. Watching the repetitive movement of Tsukiyama’s hands on the piano was so relaxing you could barely keep your eyes open. Every so often, you’d be awoken by someone offering him a drink or complementing his playing, so you’d need to hide, but nobody saw you. Eventually, the night came to and end, and though the bar wasn’t closed yet, Tsukiyama was ready to take his leave. He said his goodbyes and left, with you still in tow. 

When you’d almost reached the point where you’d drifted off completely, you heard a bit of commotion outside of your pocket. It seemed someone was arguing with Tsukiyama. 

“—believe that you keep holding out on us like this. You know, as a member of the Restaurant, you can’t keep showing us new things and then keeping them to yourself.”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You peeked out of your pocket. Tsukiyama was speaking with a woman in upper-class attire, and he seemed tense. The woman looked very angry, and there was no one else around this back-alley. Suddenly the woman pointed directly at you and shrieked. 

“WHERE did you get THAT?! I knew I could smell something good on you. You’ve got to be mad, bringing ingredients on your person in public. And why is it so small?” You panicked, shrinking deep into the pocket. You couldn’t handle another ghoul knowing about you, let alone _another_ who wanted to eat you. 

“This isn’t for you. It’s none of your concern, and I suggest you forget about it entirely.”

“Give it here! Unless you want me telling everyone what you’ve got.” No, no, now you were either dead, or people knew of your existence. Which was basically also “dead.” You shouldn’t have left your nice little apartment. You should never have came here. 

Tsukiyama hesitated for a moment, then grabbed you from his pocket. You began to hyperventilate as he lifted you out into plain sight.

“This? This is definitely not enough to share with the whole Restaurant, _madame_. I think I’ll keep it to myself.” You managed to twist your body around and look him in the eyes—his kakugan were showing. Uh oh. 

Suddenly, he opened his mouth and shoved you inside. You could hear the woman gasp with shock outside. For a few seconds, he ran his tongue over you, wetting you with saliva and soaking your clothes, before throwing his head back and quickly swallowing you. This time, your descent was much smoother, probably because he was expecting it. You certainly weren’t, though. Tsukiyama took a deep breath once you were out of the way.

“Again, I _suggest_ you forget about this,” he repeated, more forcefully. “I don’t think either of us want to make a scene in this part of town.”

“I—you just—the whole thing, clothes and all?!”

You could still hear the woman, albeit muffled, from inside Tsukiyama. At least you were hidden from view...

“I’ll take my leave now.” 

You sat at the bottom of Tsukiyama’s gut, still reeling from the ordeal. This had happened so quickly, without warning. It couldn’t be that he’d suddenly changed his mind about keeping you as a pet. And... it wasn’t as if he could digest you, even if he wanted to.

Was he... trying to protect you?


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You’re given a free ride and a massage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The vore continues. This one’s a little shorter, but it felt complete.

“Y’know, when you said you’d be my chauffeur for the night, this isn’t what I pictured.”

You laid with your arms folded behind your head, your legs curled and pressed against the stomach wall surrounding you. Quiet gurgles and groans surrounded you, and you could hear Tsukiyama’s heartbeat beginning to calm down again. Gross and traumatic as it was, you were (pretty?) sure you weren’t going to be digested, so you weren’t terrified to death this time. 

“You’re not upset?”

“Oh, I’m DEFINITELY upset,” you answered, giving a halfhearted kick. “But... you’re going to let me out again, right?”

“You catch on pretty quickly. Yes, I plan to let you out, assuming I don’t get harassed by anyone else on the way back.”

“And it was _completely necessary_ to eat me?” you asked, rolling your eyes even though he couldn’t see them. 

“If it wasn’t, I would have taken my time to taste you, _mon petit _,” Tsukiyama countered darkly, his stomach rumbling loudly as if to further his point. “I don’t want ghouls from the Restaurant knowing of your existence. Having an army of high class ghouls after you would be an inconvenience at best. As it is I’ll probably be bothered about this by her for months, and now rumours of borrower existence are likely to spread. It’s best she believe you to be dead.”__

__“Who is she, anyway?”_ _

__“She’s someone from the same members-only venue I’m a part of. It’s a restaurant of sorts; I’ve mentioned it before.”_ _

__“...Do they serve borrowers there?” you asked, tensing up. Tsukiyama must have felt this, because he went a bit flustered._ _

__“No–er, that is, not yet anyway. I’m certain they would if they could get their hands on any. They aren’t yet aware that they can’t digest you, but...”_ _

__“I really, REALLY don’t want to be chewed up,” you groaned. You were lucky to be swallowed whole the first time. If Tsukiyama had decided to chew... well, you’d be dead, and he’d have an awful stomach ache, you surmised._ _

__“The chances of that would be pretty high, I’d say.” Tsukiyama swallowed, and a trickle of additional saliva poured onto you, only increasing your feeling of dread. “Rest assured, _mon petit_ , I meant what I said. I have no intention of sharing you.” _ _

__“Whatever,” you mumbled, hopefully quiet enough that he wouldn’t hear. “Just wake me up when we get home.”_ _

__You let yourself sink a little deeper into the fleshy folds of his stomach, and tried your best to relax until you reached the Tsukiyama estate. Today, aside from you and its slick lining, it was entirely empty, so you didn’t have to bathe in mystery fluids._ _

__While you made yourself comfortable, Tsukiyama was on the move. You were bumped about a bit as he walked, and eventually he spoke again to his driver and sat down in his car._ _

__The drive felt like it lasted forever. A few minutes in, something strange began to occur. A faint ripple of pressure materialized, starting near your neck and rolling down your back,and then over your legs. This motion repeated itself, over and over again, growing stronger every time until you could feel all of yourself being gently squeezed by the muscles of Tsukiyama’s stomach._ _

__At first, you were startled and thought to cry out, but you were afraid someone outside might hear you. This action was probably not intentional, and was likely some part of digestion that you didn’t know about, but it didn’t seem to be hurting you, anyway._ _

__In fact, it was surprisingly... pleasant?_ _

__Like a massage covering every part of your body._ _

__You didn’t remember experiencing this last time, but last time you were also in an extreme panic, and then unconscious for most of it. You weren’t exactly thinking too hard about how bean anatomy might work._ _

__With every wave of pressure, you could feel your anxieties melting away and your body relaxing a little more. Everything around you was so warm and soft, and you could hear the sounds of Tsukiyama’s breathing and heartbeat, the repetitive sounds lulling you deeper into peace. If he were able to digest you, this would be the ideal borrower trap, you decided. Anyone could fall asleep in here._ _

__Tsukiyama softly hummed bits and pieces of the music he’d just played as the car made its way through the city traffic. You were so separated from the outside world, however, that you could no longer hear the bustling of the city, and slowly you began to drift away._ _

__***_ _

__You awoke in your bed in your apartment. How Tsukiyama had managed to get you out without waking you was anyone’s guess. You went about your day as usual, waiting for him to come talk to you. You were starting to miss his company when he left you alone for so long._ _

__When he did come home that afternoon, he greeted you at your usual spot on your balcony._ _

__“ _Bonne après-midi, mon petit,_ ” he called. “How are you? You’re not hurt or anything, right?”_ _

__“No, actually, I feel... nice.”_ _

__“Nice.”_ _

__“Forget it,” you backtracked, blushing. You paced back and fourth on the balcony as your conversation went on._ _

__“How was last night? Aside from the ending, I mean. Such a nuisance that it had to end with that obnoxious woman bothering us.”_ _

__“It was great. I’ve never seen someone perform live before. And you were REALLY good.” This was all true._ _

__“You flatter me.” Tsukiyama was saying something that was meant to sound humble, but he looked quite pleased with himself._ _

__“It’s true!”_ _

__You considered proposing something to Tsukiyama that would be... well, risqué to say the least. But you still didn’t entirely trust him not to hurt you, and you still hadn’t forgiven him for, y’know, trying to kill you._ _

__But you were starting to warm up to him, at least._ _


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You have a philosophical discussion with Shuu.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a short one, but I have more planned.

Before you could come to any sort of conclusion about your feelings toward Tsukiyama (that is to say, about him as a person, and nothing else) you had some questions to ask. 

Questions that had been on your mind for a while now.

You met with him one afternoon, having coffee in your usual spot. You on your porch and him in his chair. You’d met with him a few times here, now, but you hadn’t had many deep conversations yet.

Today, he’d just spent the day shopping, so he was wearing some casual clothes (or at least as casual as he could ever bring himself to wear). Instead of formal attire, he was sporting a sweater vest and khakis. You only knew this is what his clothes were called because he liked to bring up European fashion, one of his hobbies, occasionally. 

“There’s this lovely little cafe I found down in the 12th ward this morning,” he said, then took a sip of coffee. “I bought this blend there. What do you think?”

You tasted it in your own porcelain thimble. (You preferred to keep hot drinks in this rather than the metal ones - they didn’t heat up as fast.) It was bitter, since Tsukiyama always made coffee black, but there were some other subtle flavours there. Something nutty, maybe?

“It’s good, I guess. I couldn’t really tell you. I usually didn’t get to drink coffee before.” 

“An unrefined palate. I see. We’ll have to change that.” Aha. Now might be a good time to change the subject so you could ask your question.

“Coffee aside, I think my palate pretty much has to be more refined than yours.” As expected, you could tell your dig hit him hard. He just stared at you for a few seconds in shock before putting his cup firmly down on the table. Your entire porch shook with this movement, but you didn’t let it sway you.

“Are you trying to insult me?” Tsukiyama accused.

“I’m just saying. Like for example, you’ve never really tasted fruit. That’s kind of a big thing to have never tasted.”

“There’s a benefit to being limited in your choices, y/n. You get to know the subtleties of flavours that someone just eating to survive, like you, never could.”

He was certainly right about that, but the context behind what he was saying hinted again at one of the things that’d been bugging you. 

“You don’t eat to survive, then?” 

“It is my personal belief,” he began, before taking his cup back and sipping again, “that if I am going to kill to eat, I might as well enjoy my meal.”

“But you’re just killing for your own pleasure, then. You didn’t have to eat me that time. You just felt like it.”

“If I’d known them what I understand now, it never would have happened to begin with.” 

“But you do that sort of thing ALL the time to other beans, don’t you?”

Tsukiyama breathed deeply, clearly trying to stay calm. 

“Why do you care what I do to humans? It’s not as if you’re one of them.”

“But—but I still can feel some empathy for them! Don’t you—“

“I don’t.” Tsukiyama’s gaze hardened. “As a child, I used to. I cried every time I was fed, because I didn’t understand. I had human friends; why did we eat them? When I got older, though, I quickly realized: It’s not good for a ghoul to constantly question their nature. Feeling anguish over the very basis of one’s existence is no way to live. I’m sure you can understand.”

You sat and thought for a minute, mindlessly swirling your coffee. 

“I can, I guess. I used to think it was unfair that I had to live in hiding, literally underneath the feet of these people living lavish lives. But that’s just how it is, right? And I like it too, sometimes. When I get to build things... the satisfaction of a narrow escape...”

“You don’t have to take human lives to survive. But you still depend on them, just like I do.”

“USED to, anyway...” you grumbled. “But, yeah, I kind of get it... maybe it’s not really fair of me to criticize.” 

The two of you sat in silence, finishing your coffee. Tsukiyama stood up from his chair, towering over your little house. He paced around his room a little before turning back to you. 

“Y/n, how would you feel about joining me for dinner?”

You raised one eyebrow.

“That depends on what you mean.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This might have just come across as ramblings, but I hope it was thought provoking. Anyway the next chapter is gonna be pretty fucked up so look out.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You join Tsukiyama for a proper dinner date, despite the disaster that was your first one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, this is gonna be kind of fucked up. If you don’t wanna read about Hannibal style cannibalism, just don’t read this maybe? Then again, if you find that sort of thing gross, I’m really not sure why you’re here by this point.

When he’d asked you to join him for dinner, he’d meant precisely that—no vorish wordplay involved. That evening, you found yourself sitting with him on the same table you’d found yourself on weeks ago, only this time, as a guest. 

You had your own small table to seat yourself at, about halfway across the table facing Tsukiyama, who was seated at the head of the table. Between the two of you in the otherwise empty space was a centrepiece of floating candles and flowers in a crystal bowl. 

Your own table was complete with an embroidered handkerchief as a tablecloth; Tsukiyama was certainly not going to leave you feeling left out aesthetic-wise. You examined the settings: miniature plates, you’d seen and used before, but a full set of silverware? There were spoons and forks everywhere. 

“Um, what am I supposed to do with all of these?” you asked. 

“Don’t worry. You can just replicate which utensils I use. It’s simply a social custom.”

“Er, sure...?” You were anything but sure. The tables were already set in front of you. Dishes of various sizes were laid out before you, each one hidden from view with a silver cover. 

The Tsukiyama family servants had already come and gone before you’d revealed yourself and Tsukiyama had set your table. The two of you had agreed to keep you away from the eyes of anyone, including the servants and even his family. 

Everything was set. 

“You know you don’t have to go through with this if it makes you uncomfortable.” Tsukiyama said offhandedly. 

“I’m ok. I want to see things from your point of view.”

Truthfully, you were still unsure. Though you hadn’t killed any beans yourself (this was most likely impossible) you felt some second hand guilt in the bottom of your chest.

“Then let me introduce you to the _hors d’œuvre_.”

Tsukiyama lifted the cover off of the first dish to reveal something that looked *somewhat* like devilled eggs—but the longer you looked, the less like devilled eggs they looked. They were far too small and round, and a little too.. grey. 

“All the dishes you will see before you came from a human who caught my attention last week. He was a recently retired foreign athlete-I suppose he was on vacation trying to stay off the radar after some scandals caused him to quit.”

“Guess this counts as pretty ‘off the radar,’” you remarked. Tsukiyama gave you a smirk in response before slicing off the edge of one of the—augh you kind of didn’t want to think about it—eyes, ensuring he got some of both the exterior and the filling. He slid the portion onto your miniature plate. He then took a spoonful of water from a pitcher and placed it into your glass. 

“Try it at your leisure. We have all night.” Oh no. He was waiting for your reaction.

You examined your plate closer. You had to admit, this did look more visually pleasing than some of the things you’d been forced to eat in the past. On more than one occasion, you’d been so starved you’d had to eat cockroach stew. You’d discovered then that there was a good reason beans didn’t bother with eating cockroaches. But then again, cockroaches weren’t intelligent. Killing them wasn’t murder.

But the bean was already dead. And not eating this wasn’t saving anyone. And apparently this guy wasn’t the best of a person, if you’d understood what Tsukiyama was hinting at correctly. Very well.

You took one of your forks and one of your knives and sliced an even smaller piece off of the eye. Hand shaking, you brought it to your mouth. 

The texture was cool and gelatinous, but the flavour was meaty. The filling even more so. It wasn’t the most appealing thing you’d ever had, but it was marginally better than roach stew. You finished the morsel on your plate as Tsukiyama did the same, picking up the halves of the eyes one by one and sliding them into his mouth. 

“What do you think, _mon petit_?”

“Er, not bad, I guess...”

“Eyes are an acquired taste. You’re doing very well.” He lifted the cover off the next dish: a steaming bowl of soup of some sort. You received a few drops in your bowl. 

The soup is bright red, like tomato soup, but you are certain that’s not what it is. Even so, this looks a little less scary. To Tsukiyama’s chagrin, you lift the entire bowl to your face and take a sip. 

It’s meaty again, but saltier and watered down a bit. It doesn’t look like straight up blood, but you don’t care to ask what’s in it. It’s only a small bowl, so you finish it quickly.

“This was a simple blood broth. Served hot to complement the cold of the previous dish. Salt is one of the few spices ghouls are able to use, so this dish, albeit simple, is a well-loved one.”

You could understand why. You had assumed most ghouls were always out murdering people and eating them raw like animals, but it made sense that they might like to have a hot meal at home instead. 

Tsukiyama took his time finishing his broth _with a spoon_ and you sat, viewing the rest of the dishes. There were not quite as many as you’d initially thought. Only 3 more to go...

Tsukiyama opened the next plate for you. This one was actually a familiar looking dish, two rounds of meat wrapped in another meat.It looked a lot like the commercial for bacon wrapped scallops you’d seen before and had desperately wanted to try. Bacon was not exactly abundant for a borrower. Tsukiyama produced a tiny skewer for yourself, and took the other. 

Forgetting the circumstances, and overwhelmed with the scent of freshly cooked meat, you popped one of the chunks into your mouth. It tasted exactly like bacon! 

“This is—“ Tsukiyama began, but then hesitated, looking to the side. “Actually, it’s probably better to leave this one to your imagination. You seem to be enjoying it.”

“I didn’t think ghouls could have bacon, but this is _definitely_ bacon!” you confirmed.

“It’s not. But it is the same cut of meat as bacon would be. It does surprise me that the taste is the same, but I wouldn’t have any way of knowing.”

You finished your skewer, and Tsukiyama moved some of your dishes aside. Cannibalism be damned, that one was actually pretty good.

“Now, for the main course. Today, we’ll have a cut of upper thigh, braised, with gravy,” he announced, giving you another serving. “Paired with a bit of _bloodwine_.”

You preferred it, you thought, when he didn’t announce what part of the body you were going to eat. You mimicked Tsukiyama, taking up the same fork and knife he was using from your own setting, and took the first few bites. It honestly tasted like any other meat you’d had, but you doubted saying that would make Tsukiyama happy. You didn’t even attempt to sip the bloodwine. You could smell it from a distance, and it was nauseating. 

You continued to watch him carefully as he enjoyed his meal. Looking up at him eating from this angle was bringing back some unpleasant memories. You pushed them to the back of your mind, but still you were transfixed. You watched as one bite after another disappeared past his teeth and down his throat. No matter how you looked at it, it was scary to see.

“How are you doing, y/n?” he asked, and absentmindedly took a napkin and dabbed at the corner of his mouth. 

“I’m, yeah, um, doing not too bad.” Your serving was too big for you to bother finishing, and you were kind of sick of the ordeal. You were starting to think this was a bad idea—or maybe just not what you were expecting? You felt a bit hot, so you adjusted your shirt collar. Either way, even if it wasn’t as bad as you’d expected, this definitely wasn’t your thing. 

“This last dish is sort of an experiment. I’m trying to see just how far ghoul cuisine can go. For desert, we’ll have a recreation of what humans call a raindrop cake.”

He unveiled something that looked like a giant drop of water. You’d seen plenty of giant drops of water, but this one looked physically impossible. It shouldn’t hold together at this size. 

He took a tiny slice of the “raindrop cake” and laid it onto your last plate. You were surprised to see how firm it held—you were expecting it to collapse with a touch. Tsukiyama took a slice of the rest and put it to his lips. He placed it in his mouth, chewed carefully for a moment, and then swallowed. Instead of an excited gleam in his eye, all you could see was disappointment. He pushed the plate aside and closed his eyes.

“The texture isn’t bad. But it doesn’t melt in your mouth the way it should. And there’s almost no flavour.” He sighed deeply. “Perhaps I should have paired this with coffee grounds? No, that would just taste bitter and chewy...”

“It’s not bad! It’s kind of neat, actually,” you piped up. But Tsukiyama ignored you.

“Without a decent dessert, this meal just feels... incomplete.” 

From out of nowhere, some words appeared in your mouth. Those risqué, unsure words you’d been thinking about for a while, that you still weren’t sure were morally sound. You were just as shocked to hear them as Tsukiyama was:

“You could have me for dessert.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks! By the way, I’ll do a free vore fic commission for the first person who can figure out:
> 
> -what cafe I’m referring to in the previous chapter  
> -the name of a fic from my other pseud I vaguely referenced  
> -what the fake bacon wrapped scallops are made of


	8. Special Chapter: Tsukiyama POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As a reward for getting some trivia right, I present to you: me, back from the dead, with some brief Shuu POV. Note that this takes place in the time skip in Chapter 5, after the car ride home.

It felt different this time.

The feeling of being pleasantly full—that hadn’t changed. But last time, he’d thought that would be the end of it. Nothing more than another gourmet meal.

This... was almost nothing like eating. He hadn’t had the time to savour your taste. In fact, he’d only been able to taste your clothes. Highly unpleasant. And an awful texture.

But it somehow felt even better this time.

Tsukiyama Shuu absentmindedly ran a hand over his abdomen. It wasn’t visibly distended, and with you sound asleep, from the outside, there was no sign of your being there whatsoever.

The knowledge was enough. 

As he stepped out of the car, heading back home, he briefly entertained the thought of sleeping through the night with you in there again. His heart skipped a beat at the thought.

_Non._

It would be best not to. He didn’t want to suffocate the poor thing by accident somehow. That would mean the end of his fun.

_Calmato. There will be time to think about that when they can’t hear your excitement._

Taking a deep (but quiet) breath, he entered his room. There was still no sign of stirring from you, which was begging to worry him. _Had_ you actually suffocated without him noticing? 

Tsukiyama searched his bathroom for a plain towel, one he wouldn’t mind getting rid of after what he was about to do. 

Silently, like he’d practiced many times before for the sake of public appearances, he expelled you onto the towel. 

You weren’t moving. _Merde._

He leaned in close—so close that if you were to wake up, you’d probably only be able to see his face—and examined you. Still breathing, thank goodness.

Tsukiyama took an unsoiled facecloth and ran warm water over it, then wrung our the excess in one swift motion. He returned to your tiny, sleeping form and began to clean off any residue from whatever bodily fluids might have touched you. He slowly ran the cloth over your body, trying not to wake you.

Why? 

Certainly because this was a rather embarrassing part of the whole ordeal, nothing more. Having his little guest see him like this, his lips still tinged with vomit—unbefitting of someone like him.

As soon as Tsukiyama finished cleaning you off, he gently patted you dry with a second facecloth to the best of his ability. Some of the fluid would likely still be soaked into your clothes, but there wasn’t much he could do about that without waking you. He took the small bundle of towel with you still inside and laid the whole thing on top of your bed.

Perfect.

“See you tomorrow, _mon petit_.”


	9. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You enjoy desert together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> back from being imprisoned for vore crimes
> 
>  
> 
> chapter ATE

As soon as the words came out of your mouth, you blushed, embarrassed. Tsukiyama, too, was caught completely off guard. His eyes flew open immediately, his gaze directed at you, and he straightened his posture, coughing.

“I could—what?”

“Er—um, well—you seemed to like how I tasted, so... you could eat me again.”

Tsukiyama blinked in confusion, and you could understand why. This was not a normal thing to be saying, or, in his case, to be hearing.

You’d bet he’d never heard that before.

“You’d just let me eat you? Why?” It seemed he was a little flustered himself. “I was under the impression you hated that. You said yourself, and I quote, ‘don’t EVER put me in your mouth again.’”

“I know I said that, but last time... it just felt really nice, ok?” you stammered. “Forget it. That’s stupid,” you added, clamming up.

“So that’s what you meant by ‘nice’ earlier. Nice how, though?”

You looked away, considering hiding under your table even though it wouldn’t hide much of you from him at all.

“Go on. You don’t have to be embarrassed. I’d say we know each other on enough of a personal level to talk about this sort of thing, wouldn’t you?”

You peeked back toward Tsukiyama. He was gazing at you intently, but without the sort of scheming look he wore sometimes, the one he wasn’t able to fully hide.

“It felt like a full body massage. Or what I imagine one to be like, anyway. And I felt really safe, like all the dangers in the world, like that woman we met, couldn’t reach me anymore.”

Tsukiyama was silent for a moment, letting his brow furrow briefly enough for you to see it, before he gave a pleased smile and spoke again. The scheming look was back again in full force. 

“Well, if both of us would enjoy it, I don’t see why not. I’ll satisfy your whim, if you’ll only satisfy mine in return.”

You blushed again. You hadn’t really thought about what you’d say if you made it this far.

“You’ll actually—wait, you won’t kill me, will you?”

“I have no reason to, _mon chou_. I quite enjoy your company.”

“Um, okay then. Go... ahead?” You stepped forward, your legs a little shaky. 

“Not so fast. Take off your clothes, first” 

“Oh, um, right...” This was, you supposed, necessary, and would make things better for the both of you, but you couldn’t help but feel a bit embarrassed. On top of that, he _had_ seen you naked before, but that had been a pretty traumatic day.

No. This was going to be on your terms.

“I will, but you have to close your eyes.”

“ _Aucune problème_. Just step onto my hand, first.”

You did as he asked, and in exchange, he did as you asked and closed his eyes. You shedded all your layers, leaving yourself completely bare.

“Done.” 

Without saying anything or opening his eyes, he carefully brought the hand you were on to his mouth, opening it slowly. Your heart raced as you could already see his mouth watering. 

You gazed into his opened jaws for a moment. The pink flesh was soft and glistening, and his teeth white and intimidating, the canines sharper than you were comfortable with. Then you noticed his tongue flick inwards twice. 

He was gesturing at you to come in.

You leaned in and placed one hand on Tsukiyama’s tongue. Despite being textured, it was incredibly slippery. Hesitantly, you placed your other hand on his teeth, getting a firm grip.

You swung your opposite leg up, sliding yourself almost fully in his mouth. You quickly wriggled away from the teeth, still frightened by the prospect of being bitten in half. 

The pillowy surface you laid on shifted as Tsukiyama closed his jaw around you, sealing you away from the light. As soon as he did so, he gave a deep sigh. 

His mouth was almost flooding with saliva, covering you with it before he swallowed once, holding you in place. With that out of the way, he began to explore your taste.

You were pushed to the roof of his mouth, his tongue sliding along your back. This wasn’t the most comfortable part of the process, but you endured without complaint. The muscular appendage flipped you over a few times, running along your skin, savouring you. Tsukiyama let out a moan, one you hadn’t heard in some time. 

He sucked on you, briefly, and the pressure made you feel so lightheaded you thought you might pass out, but before you could, enough saliva had built up in his mouth that he gave another swallow, this time sending you along with it. 

As you were squeezed along, you could hear Tsukiyama breathing heavily. 

“Ahh... _exquis_...”

You sighed too once you reached the now-familiar confines of his stomach. Despite being flustered by the process, you’d made it through and could now just enjoy the rest. It was so warm in here, and every surface was impossibly, angelically soft, softer than any blanket you’d ever felt. It was already empty, aside from you. 

_A ghoul’s digestive system must be incredibly fast._

The thought was still somewhat disturbing, so you shook it from your head, allowing yourself to relax in your makeshift sauna. The smell wasn’t terrible, either, now that you were used to it, just a little unusual. 

You laid in relaxed silence for a moment, before you felt something press against you. A hand. You had another thought, which you voiced this time.

“Do you think maybe borrowers and ghouls are meant for this?”

The pressure from Tsukiyama’s hand squeezed against you harder.

“I could not tell you, _mon chou_. All I know is that you are right where you belong.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was too tired to edit this so if there’s a typo let me know. Or I’ll find it later. That’s usually how it goes.

**Author's Note:**

> Is there more to this story? Sure. But hell if I know how to continue it.


End file.
